


Lonely Neighbor

by jacksonwangsthighs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonwangsthighs/pseuds/jacksonwangsthighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His mother continued to ramble on about how nice it would be to have a classmate living next to him as Oikawa stuffed food into his mouth. He was excited, of course, to finally have someone to walk with! But he was nervous too, what if they didn’t like him? Lots of kids didn’t like him- He was oddly proportioned, and his glasses and braces made him look nerdy, and he stuttered a lot when he talked in front of people, and sometimes his words got jumbled and came out wrong. Most people weren’t upfront about disliking him, they just gave him odd looks and avoided making eye contact. Others, though… Well, he’d learned to avoid those types of people! But what if he was living next to one?</p><p>He nervously looked up as someone slid into the chair in front of him. </p><p>The boy no longer had mud on his face, or leaves in his hair. </p><p>But he still had that arrogantly cocked eyebrow, that little disapproving sneer on his lips. </p><p>“This is Iwaizumi, Tooru.” </p><p>“We’ve met.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the music video for Lonely Neighbor(What am I to You?) by Oh Honey.

Sometimes, first impressions mean nothing at all. 

When Oikawa met Iwaizumi, the latter had just moved into town and was scoping out the woods behind his new house for interesting bugs. Oikawa hadn’t even known that someone had taken residence next door, because he’d been at school all day. And, instead of going straight home like his mother would have liked, he’d decided to follow a pack of the other primary school boys to the playground. 

He’d hung back a bit, gripping the straps of his back pack, pausing every few steps to push his too-big glasses up. They were bulky and the lenses were thick, their awkwardness highlighting the fact that his head was too big for his body. His hair stuck out at all angles, frizzy and thick, the blustering spring sun causing a thin sheen of sweat to have formed on his face. 

His mouth was insanely dry, but his mother had only given him enough money to purchase lunch, so there was no chance of stopping at a convince store to get a drink. With each step he took, regret at not heading straight home bloomed inside him. These boys, walking almost five yards in front of him now, didn’t even want him there. They hadn’t invited him. His mother would have an ice cold box of juice waiting for him, and she might even break some mochi ice cream out when he showed her the high scores he’d gotten on his math test. Yes, ice cream sounded very good right now.. 

He glanced up, realizing that at some point, he must have turned down the wrong street. Or perhaps he simply hadn’t noticed when the other boys went down a different one. It didn’t matter to him, because either way, he’d once again been left behind. _Like always,_ a tiny voice inside his head told him. Oikawa shook it away, just like he always did, and pulled his bag up onto his shoulders again. He knew this part of town, so there was no reason for him to panic. 

So, why exactly, were tears stinging at his eyes? 

Perhaps he was too young to place a finger on the feeling of absolute loneliness just yet. (He would know, later. Would remember the empty feeling inside his eight-year-old chest as he realized that he didn’t have a single friend to walk to school with, or to invite him to the park, or to sit with at lunch.) 

It must have been the unbidden tears that clouded his vision that caused him to run smack into the lamp post. He stumbled back in shock, the too-large glasses falling from his face, vision becoming even blurrier. He hurried to pick them up, but when he let go of his bag, the stupid straps slid down his arms and pulled at them painfully, causing him to stumble backwards and land hard on his rump. The feeling of concrete slamming into his tailbone gave him a real, solid reason to cry. 

He didn’t know how long he sat on the empty street corner, knees pulled to his chest, half-blind and sobbing. It might have been minutes or hours that he took to calm himself down, gather his things and get back onto his feet. (His mother had often said that you have to be able to pick yourself up! There won’t always be someone else to do it for you. She was an adult, she knew about these things, so he was proud of himself. Later on, he’d realized that she probably hadn’t meant it so literally.) 

The left lens of his glasses was cracked, and even after he’d cleaned the dirt off of it, he couldn’t really see out of that side. His mom was going to be so upset! First he was late coming home, and now he had broken glasses and a huge bump welling up between his eyebrows. He considered lying and telling her he’d gotten into a fight instead of admitting that he’d run into a lamp post. She’d believe him, of course, but she’d make a huge fuss about calling the school to complain and then he’d have to tell lie after lie, and- 

And, really, it still might be better. 

He pondered his options as he back tracked, heading to the main road, abandoning the idea of the park for that day. The decision to use a joggers trail through the forest to make up for lost time wasn’t an easy one. He’d still be late, and anyways, Oikawa hated bugs. And snakes. One of his classmates had once commented that his crooked teeth made him look like a snake (And talk like one, too), and to that day, it was the worst insult that Oikawa had ever received. (He had braces now, of course, and his teeth weren’t as bad anymore.) 

But, the sooner he got home, the sooner his mom could coddle him and give him that juice. He didn’t even care if it was pity juice. He just wanted something to drink! 

He didn’t anticipate a huge fallen tree blocking off half of the path. Oikawa’s first thought was to climb over it. And he did try, grabbing one of the branches, pushing up while he jumped off the ground, feet scrambling to find purchase in the knotted bark of the tree. 

The thin branch broke with a sickening crunch, and his knee connected with the round trunk of the tree, pants tearing. He cried out pitifully, trying to right himself as his backpack once again hindered his movement. His leg jerked, now-exposed knee being skinned against the rough bark. For the second time that day, Oikawa fell backwards, pain jarring through him. 

At least his glasses didn’t fall off that time. 

He sat in shock for a few seconds, trying to process what exactly had lead to his bleeding knee- And, had he scrapped his arm on one of the branches as well? Little welts of red were forming along his bicep, and Oikawa realized that it would certainly be easier to fool his mother into thinking that he’d gotten into a fight now. 

Obviously, since no one could possibly conquer the massive tree, he’d just have to go around it. This would mean trekking into the thick bushes and possibly encountering a snake. He shivered to think about their beady eyes watching him, waiting for him to make a move so that they could lung and sink their fangs into him- 

A foot landed on his hand, hard. Oikawa let out an undignified shout, snatching the limb back as he scrambled away to stare at the owner of said foot. 

A boy that had to be about his age stood flush against the tree, eyes wide with confusion, mud smeared over his cheeks. There were leaves in his short, spiky hair, and he had some weird sort of belt hanging off his waist. It looked kind of like a tool belt, but where tools might have been sat small glass tubes. They reminded Oikawa of the test tubes they sometimes used in science, but these were a bit wider, and they all had little rubber corks closing them. The rubber corks seemed to have tiny holes, and two or three of them had bugs inside them- Bugs. Why anyone would use a tool belt to carry bugs around, Oikawa didn’t have a clue. His eyes focused on the safari-type net in the boy’s hand, instead of his face. 

“You stepped on my hand,” He sniffed, flexing his fingers carefully. They didn’t seem to be broken but they still hurt. 

“’S your fault.” 

“Wha-“ He sputtered, finally staring up at the boy. It felt odd to be sitting while the other kid was standing, so he quickly scrambled to his feet. “How is it my fault?” 

“You shouldn’t a’ been sitting there.” 

“I fell!” He shouted, glaring. The boy was slightly taller than him, and seemed unimpressed by his frustration and his injury. 

“’S not my fault,” He shrugged, and tapped his foot. “Can you move? You’re blocking the trail.” 

So, he stumbled aside and let the strange boy pass, wondering if maybe he was one of the weird kids that lived in the forest. His older sister had told him a scary story about children that haunted the woods once, waiting for people to get lost so that they could eat them alive- 

He swallowed thickly, deciding to just head back to the road and face being late. 

~*~ 

The next day was Saturday, so Oikawa didn’t anticipate much. Maybe his older brother or sister would take him into town for some ice cream after they got home. But there was to be no invitations from nonexistent friends inviting him to the movies or to the lake, so the excitement that most kids felt for the weekend just wasn’t shared by him. 

He couldn’t have guessed, of course, that when he came down that morning there would be a strange lady sitting at the kitchen table. She had a plate of breakfast in front of her, and three other spots were set- If he’d been more awake, he might had processed this as a bit odd. His brother had volleyball club today, and his sister had her job babysitting. His mother was already in her place at the table, so that left one plate of food for him and someone else. 

But, all things considered, he had only just woken up. He took his seat, laying his head down against the table, listening to his mother chat with the strange lady. His mom had lots of friends, he knew that. Mostly men that came over after dinner, and were gone by the time he woke up, but there were occasionally women as well. He didn’t really care so as long as they didn’t bother him. A lot of the men smelled kind of weird, but he never commented on it. 

This woman was a bit different, he thought, from where he studied her with his head on the table. His glasses were pushing awkwardly into the side of his head but he was used to that by now. (His spare glasses, ones he’d been bought last year. The prescription might have been a little outdated but at least they weren’t broken. 

She had thick black hair, and her skin was very tan, dotted with little freckles here and there. He eyes were a pretty green color, he thought. She reminded him of someone, but who- 

Down the hall, the bathroom door opened, and then shut. He didn’t move. 

“Hajime,” The strange woman said, “Did you wash your hands?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t think you did.” 

“..Their soap smells girly!” 

“Go wash your hands,” She ordered, and whoever she was talking to gave a grunt before stomping off back towards the bathroom. Oikawa looked up just in time to see a hair of black head disappear behind the wall. 

“This is Tooru,” His mother said, reaching over to muse his already messed bed head. He dunked away from her hand a little too slow. “He’s in the same class as Hajime, like I told you. I’m sure they’ll get along.” 

“Thank you for watching him, again,” The other woman hummed appreciatively. “And the breakfast was wonderful! I’ll be back tonight to pick him up.” 

Oikawa watched as she left, realizing that her son was still in the bathroom. He narrowed his eyes at his mother as she went about gathering up the woman’s plate. 

“Tooru, the Iwaizumi’s are moving in next to us. I’m watching Iwaizumi Hajime today, and guess what? He’s going to be going to school with you starting Monday! Isn’t that nice? You can walk together, and..” 

His mother continued to ramble on about how nice it would be to have a classmate living next to him as Oikawa stuffed foot into his mouth. He was excited, of course, to finally have someone to walk with! But he was nervous too, what if they didn’t like him? Lots of kids didn’t like him- He was oddly proportioned, and his glasses and braces made him look nerdy, and he stuttered a lot when he talked in front of people, and sometimes his words got jumbled and came out wrong. Most people weren’t upfront about disliking him, they just gave him odd looks and avoided making eye contact. Others, though… Well, he’d learned to avoid those types of people! But what if he was living next to one?

He nervously looked up as someone slid into the chair in front of him. 

The boy no longer had mud on his face, or leaves in his hair. 

But he still had that arrogantly cocked eyebrow, that little disapproving sneer on his lips. 

“This is Iwaizumi, Tooru.” 

“We’ve met.” 

“Oh? That’s wonderful! Well, I’ve some work to finish up, so why don’t you boys finish eating and head outside? I’ll clean up later.” 

His mother left, and Oikawa nervously licked his lips, focusing his attention back on the food. He felt the other boy’s- Iwaizumi’s- eyes burning holes in his head. 

“How’s your hand?” 

“What- What?” He dropped the fork, wincing as it clanked against the plate. 

Iwaizumi sighed, and rolled his eyes. 

“I asked how your hand was. Since you were such a crybaby about it.” 

“I-I was- Wasn’t crying!” He protested, shoulders tightening. 

“You were.” 

“Not because- Because of you,” He whined pitifully, picking up his fork to take another bite, only to find that his food was gone. Oikawa lifted his eyes to find the other boy staring at him, brows drawn into something that seemed a little different than the disgust most of the other kids looked at him with. However, at eight, Oikawa wasn’t an expert at reading expressions so his mind processed it as, _Oh, no. He doesn’t like me._

 _I shouldn’t care!_ He screamed internally, _He’s a big meanie. I don’t want him to like me!_

So, the next thing Iwaizumi said to him threw his young mind into confusion. 

“I saw a volleyball in the hall.” 

“It’s my brother’s,” He grumbled. 

“I’ll teach you how to play,” Iwaizumi offered. Oikawa blinked at him, once, twice. And then agreed, because if he had to live next to this mean kid, he might as well try to be nice. 

Oikawa was, admittedly, horrible at volleyball. But, he was just as determined as he was sweaty by the time Iwaizumi had to go home. It was dark, but it was still warm. 

“Iwa-Chan,” He whined, rubbing his arm when he was swatted for the use of the nickname, “We’ve got to practice tomorrow, too! I’ve got to get good enough that I can really play with you. I will,” He promised, there under the lamplight, the stars scattered across the sky above them, watching as two (unknown to each other, and themselves,) lonely kids swore to meet up the next day, and the day after that to practice until they really were good. (Good enough for what, Oikawa didn’t know just yet.) 

(Long after Iwaizumi had gone home, the boy’s mothers sat up late at night talking over the phone, 

“I was so worried they wouldn’t get along! Tooru’s never had much luck with friends.” 

“Hajime can’t seem to get along with most kids his age. I was worried it would be the same here. He wants to come over again tomorrow.” 

“Of course! What time do you want to drop him off?) 

 

~*~ 

By the time they started their last year of elementary school, Iwaizumi and Oikawa had made good on their promise to get better at volleyball. With the help Oikawa’s older brother, and later a children’s team that their mothers had signed them up for. 

Years had brought change not only to their skill level, but to their friendship, and to the boys themselves. Oikawa grew into his head, abandoned his braces and contacts, and finally learned how to use a brush. (And his sister’s hair products)  
It was rare for either boy to be seen without each other, teachers and family friends commenting that they seemed to be attached at the hip. They never overheard these comments, though. 

Oikawa found that there were certain perks to living next to your best friend. The backdoor to the Iwaizumi house was always locked, but the spare key was under the doormat, and he’d long since learned how to push the door so that it didn’t creak too loudly. (Not that Mrs. Iwaizumi cared. She loved Tooru!) 

He stumbled up the stairs, sniffling and trying to contain his sobs as to not wake anyone up. But, Iwaizumi’s door swung open before he even made it all the way up. 

“Crybaby,” He accused, but held the door open. 

He still had the stuffed Godzilla that Oikawa had bought him for his birthday two years ago. It sat next to his pillow. 

“Nice pajamas,” The dark-haired boy flicked the space ship that was plastered across Oikawa’s stomach, taking a seat in his desk chair while the former flopped onto his bed. 

“She’s marrying him, Iwa-chan. I hate him. I-I can’t- He can’t live with us.” 

Oikawa had long since stopped stuttering, but he still cried a lot. 

“…You can just live over here.” 

“Hah. I wish.” 

“I’m not kidding,” He shrugged, looking away. “You’ve over here almost all the time, anyways. Our moms wouldn’t even notice.” 

“…Can I stay the night?” 

“You can stay _every_ night,” Iwaizumi punched his shoulder, lightly. 

“I think we’re going to move,” Oikawa pulled his knees to his chest, eyes squeezing shut. His mother had started bringing the same man over ever night a few months ago. And then, suddenly, he was staying for dinner. Going to his brother’s games. He was everywhere. 

And, Oikawa hated him. 

He hated the stupid, expensive gifts he bought them, hated the way he held his mother’s hand, hated the fake smile on her lips and the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Since he has a bigger house,” Oikawa finished, peering at Iwaizumi over his knees. 

“We’ll just have to run away, then.” 

He gaped at him, and shook his head a few times. 

“W-We can’t-“ 

“We can so, Oikawa. We’ll live in the woods, and I’ll take care of you. Since you’re such a crybaby and all!” 

“Iwai-chan, we _can’t,_ ” 

“Can so. I’ll prove it to you. Now, go to sleep.” 

 

Early the next day, before Oikawa’s sister had even left for work, the boys crept over to his house and packed two bags full of clothes, toilet paper, and food. (The food consisted of two boxes of granola bars, left over take-out, and two bottles of water each. They were set.) 

Oikawa knew, as soon as Iwaizumi lead him off the jogging trail, that he was in trouble. It was daylight, but he still jumped at every branch. When a raccoon scuttled across the trail in front of them, he shrieked and scrambled backwards. He fell on his back, kicking his feet as Iwaizumi laughed at him. 

“Mean, Iwa-chan,” He shrieked, kicking his foot once more for good measure. It dislodged a small rock from where it was half-buried in the moist dirt. The sunlight caught on a piece of glass that had been under it, reflecting directly into Oikawa’s eyes. (They were still red from crying last night.) 

“Look,” He scooted forward, leaning over the bit of glass- To find that it was actually a round piece of lens, with a black handle. 

“A magnifying glass,” Iwaizumi’s voice was unimpressed, but he picked it up anyways, thumping it gently against the side of a tree to knock off the rest of the dirt. 

“So cool,” Oikawa cooed, grabbing his friend’s elbow to pull himself up. He looked at where his bag had bust open on the rocks. 

“I guess-“ 

“I can still visit you, right?” 

His voice was desperate. He’d never had any friends before Iwaizumi, and he was scared- Scared that they had only become friends out of convenience, that once his mom married that old man, and they moved, he’d be forgotten. He could see it happening, see his Iwa-chan twisting his face up into a disgusted sneer, telling him no, _why would he want to hang out with such a loser-_

“Duh. If I told you no, Mom would be mad. She likes you.” 

“She loves me,” Oikawa bragged a bit, smiling despite the tears pricking at his eyes. 

“I don’t know why..” He sighed. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.” 

~*~ 

Playing on an actual volleyball team was good for them. Oikawa suddenly had a whole group of friends (and fangirls) and he knew that Iwaizumi liked being part of a team, too. He knew it, came to know the warm feeling in his chest when he was Iwaizumi laughing very well. (He was bothered, at first, to see him laugh with someone who wasn’t him, but… He got over it quickly. So as long as he was still his best friend, his Iwa-chan.) 

He did end up moving, to a larger but emptier house. It felt like living inside a skeleton, sometimes. His sister ended up keeping his childhood home, and by the time Oikawa started high school, his brother moved away, too. 

He still hated the man his mother married, and didn’t cry at his funeral. He didn’t cry, because with each day afterward, his mother brightened. The finger-shaped bruises around her arms faded and weren’t replaced, and even after they had to move back in with his sister... He didn’t cry.

He did cry, however, the day he graduated. 

And, he cried when he learned that Iwaizumi and he were going to different schools for the first time since they’d moved in next to each other. The knowledge weighed on him, closing in on his chest with each box he taped shut. 

He opened his dressed drawer, ready to throw away old school notes. Under a folder, though, he found an old, rusted magnifying glass. 

_“We’ll just have to run away, then.”_

Oikawa smiles through his tears as he puts it into the small box of things that says, in bold letters, KEEP.

~*~ 

Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into a semester. And before he can even process it, Oikawa finds himself on a train back to his hometown for the first time in months. The holidays crept up quickly, and now he can hardly keep himself from screaming as he counts the seconds that all of a sudden seem to drag by. 

Iwaizumi is waiting for him at the train station, of course. They walk towards their childhood homes, laughing and exchanging stories- Oikawa tells him that he’s pretty sure his roommate is going to murder him if he stays up watching alien documentaries one more time. 

“Hey, can we go this way? I want to see something,” Oikawa stops in front of the trail he tried to use as a short cut all those years ago, tugging at his best friend’s sleeve. 

His best friend. 

The trees tower over them, branches bare. _It might snow later, _Oikawa thinks.__

__“Oh!” Iwaizumi stops walking, snatching him back by the hood of his coat as he starts to keep on. “Hang on, let me show you something.”_ _

__Oikawa slips his hands into his pockets and Iwa-chan fishes his phone out, fingers brushing over the surface an old magnifying glass. He chews on his lip, watching as his friend unlocks his phone and holds it at eye level._ _

__He feels like he got hit by a train._ _

__It’s a picture of Iwaizumi, his arm around the waist of a small blonde girl. They’re smiling at each other, one scarf around both their necks._ _

__He smiles. He feels sick._ _

__“She’s very pretty, Iwa-chan,” His fingers brush over the letter, tied to the handle of the magnifying glass. A love confession. He drops his empty hand back at his side._ _

__“She is, isn’t she? I’m lucky.”_ _

__He remembers, suddenly, what it feels like to be alone._ _

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is trash bc I had to rush  
> maybe I'll rewrite it someday 
> 
> tumblr: truly-gay-fish


End file.
